


Amplification

by DreamingKate



Category: Glee
Genre: AU Klaine, Blood, Character Death (OC), Doctor!Klaine, Ebola - Freeform, Illness, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-06
Updated: 2014-12-14
Packaged: 2018-02-07 17:54:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 8,880
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1908306
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DreamingKate/pseuds/DreamingKate
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They were on the front line of a war against an invisible monster.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So I have time at work to just sit and read and just finished Richard Preston’s The Hot Zone (a fascinating book but it’ll give you nightmares). I’ve always been insanely interested in medicine and disease and couldn’t get it out of my head.

When Kurt was eight years old his mother died. 

He had watched her beautiful face become thin and lined with disease. The cancer ate away at her; draining her energy and making her long hair fall out in clumps. Her smile softened and her eyes dulled and Kurt knew exactly what was happening.

His mother was going to die. 

Death was something horrible, something monstrous. It loomed in the corners of the hospital and attacked without rhyme or reason. One day his mother would be taken as well and he would be left alone with his father.

“Why don’t the doctors try harder?” Kurt asked tearfully as his mother rocked him gently back and forth. 

“Sometimes there are things that doctors can’t help. They’re helping me with the pain and making it so I can enjoy being with you,” she whispered into his hair, kissing the top of his head. “Kurt, these doctors are the most selfless people in the world. They do whatever they can to save people. They’re superheroes.”

Kurt didn’t believe in superheroes. They were stupid people in capes and spandex (ugh, spandex) but he believed in doctors. He saw the way his mother’s oncologist would spend hours making sure she was comfortable. He saw the way he looked exhausted but always checked in on her. He saw the way he helped grieving family members.

He wasn’t going to fly and fight crime, but he was going to help people.

—

“Africa?” Burt stared at his son as he meticulously added dressing to his salad. “They’re sending you to Africa?”

“Guinea to be specific. The disease is spreading way faster than expected and they need physicians, especially ones who specialize in infectious diseases.”

“You deal with the flu outbreaks and people who have crappy immune systems. You shouldn’t deal with some insane tropical disease that has no cure and kills nine out of ten people,” Burt frowned and Kurt found himself smiling.

“You looked it up?”

“Of course! If my son is going off to fight some outbreak I’m going to do my research!” Burt put his napkin over his finished burger and fries. “I worry about you.”

“You don’t need to worry,” Kurt smiled. “I’m careful. I just want to help people.”

Burt let out an explosive sigh and leaned back in his chair. “I know and I’m so proud of you. You just have to swear that you’ll be careful.”

“I swear,” Kurt rolled his eyes.

“Good,” Burt smiled and raised his hand. “I’ll get us each a slide of cheesecake. Don’t even argue about it.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it, it might be the thing I miss most when I go,” Kurt glanced over to see his father’s glower. “Besides you of course.”

—

One ten-hour flight later, Kurt was completely exhausted. 

He landed in Conakry International Airport and was greeted by the Doctors Without Borders coordinator, Richard. The man was bubbly and smiled constantly, wearing an oversized Hawaiian shirt with shorts.

“Dr. Hummel!” He called out, extending a hand and shaking Kurt’s strongly. “We’re so excited to see you here!”

“I’m very happy to be here,” Kurt smiled, noting that his bags were being loaded onto a cart. 

“We currently have about twenty five international doctors here and over one hundred local professionals,” he led him out into the hot, humid air. “Our goal now is just to contain the outbreak. More and more people keep showing up to the hospital and people are starting to get scared. Some of the doctors have even left or refused to leave the airport.”

Kurt nodded, heart pounding. Of course he had heard the stories of Ebola and none of them were good. It started with a headache and fever. Then the patient would start vomiting and their liver and kidney would begin to fail. The virus would attack the connective tissue, destroying the tissues that held the skin to flesh. Their inner organs would start dying, rotting inside of them while they were still alive. The patient would bleed out of every orifice and then they would die painfully. 

It was what nightmares were made of. 

“We don’t have a ton of space in the living quarters so I’m afraid you’ll have to share a room with a doctor from Italy,” he opened the passenger door to an ancient Ford truck and Kurt climbed in. “He’s very kind though.”

“It’s fine,” Kurt tried to shove down the nervousness rising in his chest. 

He was going into the front line of a war. A war with no morals or qualms about killing anyone. Men, women and children were all the victims and if this disease got the chance to get out, it would be devastating.

The village looked rather peaceful when they approached it. People walked along the street with bags of good they were bringing home from markets. They sat in plastic chairs and chatted, eyes following the truck as it passed. Children played with a dog nearby a few small huts.

As they approached the local medical center there was an obvious change. Warning signs were plastered everywhere and a plastic orange fence, like what surrounded construction sites, lined the street. Tents were set up and long lines of mint green gloves were put on sticks to dry after being washed.

“Welcome to Guinea Dr. Hummel,” Richard opened his door and nodded to a concrete building nearby. “Your quarters are right over here.”

His quarters were in an old apartment building that had been set up for visiting doctors years ago. There was one bathroom with no running water and a series of bare light bulbs lined the hallway. His room was small and simple, two beds on either side of the room and a small table in the middle. 

His roommate had a bright colored quilt on his bed, obviously homemade, and had taped up a few pictures on the wall. Curious, Kurt stepped closer and looked at them.

An older couple, maybe his parents, smiled warmly at the camera as they held up a glass of wine. Two young men, both attractive, grinned at the camera with their arms around each other. A pretty Asian woman smiled and waved. 

The door crashed open and Kurt almost jumped out of his skin.

“Merda!” The intruder snapped. “Terribly sorry, I keep forgetting this door weighs nothing.”

The man who had entered was wearing lavender scrubs and his freshly washed hair fell in curls around his forehead. He had bright golden eyes and a wide smile on his face.

“You must be my new roommate! I’m Blaine Anderson,” he held out a hand.

“Kurt Hummel,” Kurt stuttered, the man’s accent nearly making him swoon. 

“Wonderful!” Blaine was all energy, practically bouncing in place. “Welcome to our own little slice of heaven. Who knew it would include so much hand sanitizer?” 

Damn. Kurt was lost.


	2. Chapter 2

“So here is our lovely hospital,” Blaine swept an arm across the concrete building. “It is a hot zone right now. You have to wear disposable surgical gowns, gloves, boots, goggles, and a mask.”

“Gotcha,” Kurt nodded, watching as another doctor got geared up right outside of the entrance.

“When you’re done they spray you down with bleach to kill any remaining particles of virus,” Blaine continued. “Watch your hands at all times. The virus moves through contact with bodily fluids so a slipped scalpel or needle or even a paper cut that gets in touch with blood can mean infection. Be careful.”

Kurt’s skin crawled and he nodded again. This was by far the most dangerous thing he had ever done. They were about to step into a battlefield and Blaine was grinning and wearing Winnie the Pooh scrub bottoms. 

“And it’s-“ a small blur raced up and leapt on Blaine’s back, making him stumble. 

“Dr. Anderson!” A tiny child dressed in a striped shirt squealed, making Blaine laugh as he lightly spun him around. 

“Mory,” Blaine gave him a stern look that was completely unconvincing. “You know that your mother worries when you are too far. You supposed to stay far away from the hospital.”

“But you haven’t come by my home in days,” the boy whined, putting all his weight on Blaine’s hand. 

“I’ve been very busy,” Blaine said softly and Kurt could see the dark circles under Blaine’s eyes and the tired lines along his face. The epidemic was at its high right now and he couldn’t imagine how exhausted the doctors had to be. 

“Who are you?” Mory finally turned wide eyes to Kurt.

“This is Dr. Hummel,” Blaine squeezed the boy’s shoulders. “He’s from America and he’s here to help as well. Dr. Hummel, this is Mory. He and his family live right down the road and he’s become my little shadow.” 

Mory laughed and ran in a circle around Blaine before sprinting off, shouting that he would be back. Seeing someone so bright and bubbly in a place paralyzed with fear was like a refreshing glass of water. 

“He’s got quite a personality,” Blaine gave him a bright grin. “When I first started here I was doing health education and vaccinations. Then this hell started. Now, want to enter the hospital?”

“Of course,” Kurt nodded, a prickle of fear running down his spin. 

Blaine gave him a long look and smiled softly. “If you’re safe and careful, nothing will happen. I was beyond terrified when I first stepped into the hospital.”

A hot blush spread across Kurt’s cheeks and he followed Blaine into the first portion of the hospital. They were given heavy gloves, covers for their shoes, a mask and goggles. When Kurt was finally dressed, he felt like he was redoing his surgical rotation.

“So what specialty are you?” Blaine asked as he adjusted his mask. 

“Mostly internal medicine with a specialty in infectious diseases,” Kurt shrugged. “What about you?”

“Pediatrics,” Blaine gave him a thumbs up and stepped into the quarantined area. 

As soon as Kurt stepped in, he was almost overpowered by the smell of blood. About fifteen people lay on beds in various states of disease. Some seemed almost healthy except for their reddened eyes as they stared at the people who were worse off. 

A young man lay on a nearby bed, face set into a blank expression. His eyes shone with blood and it gathered at the corners of his mouth. Blood trickled from his nose and his body shook with weak coughs.

Next to him was a bagged body.

“There’s nothing more we can do,” Blaine whispered by his ear. “He’s started bleeding into the brain. I’d give him a few more hours before he crashes. It’s not a pretty sight either.”

Kurt pursed his lips and nodded slightly. It was worse than he imagined. As a doctor, he was a healer but here there was no chance to heal without a treatment. They were basically here to make sure that their horrific death was slightly less horrific. 

He spent an exhausting day reading through all of the charts and research the team had done so far. The people in the beds looked beyond hopeless and he could hardly meet their eyes. 

Lying in bed that night, despite being beyond tired, Kurt couldn’t sleep. Every time he tried to close his eyes he could see those red eyes staring up at him, blank and terrified. 

“Trouble sleeping?” Blaine’s accented voice broke through the silence and he jumped. 

“How do you fall asleep after seeing that?”

Blaine lay silent in his bed for a long time before sighing. “I work in Istituto Giannina Gaslini in Genoa. I am on the pediatric emergency surgical team so…I see my fair share of nightmares. You know how it is. You learn to block things out.”

Kurt nodded slightly and took a deep breath. “I’ve never heard of Genoa.”

“Oh it’s beautiful,” he could hear the smile in Blaine’s voice. “It’s on the sea so you wake up to the smell of salt in the air. It just feels as if you have stepped back in time.”

“And you’ve always lived there? You speak English very well,” Kurt turned onto his side. 

“Well, I learned a bit in school,” Blaine laughed. “And then I studied abroad in my undergraduate degree in New York. You’re kind of forced to learn the language then.”

“I went to school in New York!” Kurt found himself grinning. “I’ve lived there ever since.”

“It was an amazing city,” Blaine shifted on his own bed. “I was there for an entire year. It was almost impossible to leave. You make connections in a city like that. You have your favorite cafe, your favorite park, friends, I even left behind a boyfriend.”

The wistful tone of voice faded off and in the darkness, Kurt could see Blaine give him a worried look. 

“I was worried about leaving someone behind when I moved here but my boyfriend decided to sleep with someone else two months before,” Kurt muttered and Blaine relaxed. “I can’t imagine the dating pool is too great here?”

“Nah, not unless you want to go to prison for three years,” Blaine stretched out his legs. “I’m glad you’re here Kurt, being surrounded by so many horrible things makes you feel pretty alone.”

Kurt smiled up at the dark ceiling, he was happy to be here too.

—

A loud knock on the door startled them both awake and they both sat up, blinking away sleep. It had been three weeks and he still wasn’t used to the random alerts that came up at any hour of the day. 

“New case! She’s in one of the huts!” Someone shouted on the other end and Blaine shot out of bed, struggling into a set of Pluto pajamas. Finally aware enough of the situation, Kurt stumbled out of bed as well and got dressed. 

“Damn it!” Blaine cursed as he hurried down the hall of their dormitory. “They don’t trust us and they don’t come to us as soon as they start feeling symptoms. God only knows how many people have been exposed now!”

They hopped into the back of an old white pickup truck and put on protective gear as they drove to the nearest victim. 

“Thankfully these people have been taught a bit of English through volunteers,” Blaine’s voice was muffled through the mask. “The main language is French. Do you speak it?”

“It do,” Kurt gripped the side of the truck as it raced around a corner. 

“Beautiful,” Blaine gave him a wink. 

Blaine’s face grew more and more serious as they approached the home and his eyes were flashing as it pulled up. The tiny Mory was sitting on the low wall running through the homes, tears streaming down his cheeks. 

“It’s his mother,” his voice was a little strangled. “Christ.”

They jumped out of the truck as soon as it arrived and some of the technicians raced into the hut where they could hear broken groans. 

“Mory!” Blaine’s voice exploded next to him, sounding furious. “What is this?”

He all but sprinted to the boy who was staring up at him with wide eyes. Kurt couldn’t hold back the gasp as he saw the blood staining Mory’s hands and shirt. Blaine grabbed his hands with his own gloved ones, looking them over. 

“Mama was bleeding,” he choked out. 

“What do you do when you see someone bleeding?” His voice was firm as Mory bowed his head. “Come, let’s wash it off.”

Blaine picked up the boy and carried him over to a bucket of bleach they had in the truck. Another groan from the hut broke Kurt out of his daze and he hurried in. Mory’s mother was curled into a tight ball, lying in a pool of her own blood. 

It was obvious that she was rather far along in her disease and it terrified Kurt to think of how many people she might have infected.

“Do you speak English?” He asked softly as he knelt next to her, trying to ignore the red sludge that surrounded his boots. The woman nodded weakly and he smiled. “My name is Dr. Kurt Hummel. We are going to move you to the hospital and give you the care you need.”

The woman groaned as they loaded her into a gurney and trembled as the technicians carried her outside. Blaine stood by the truck, Mory in his arms. 

“Let’s get them to the hospital,” he said softly. 

“Is he…”

“Maybe,” Blaine’s eyes looked worried as he climbed into the truck, Mory’s head resting on his shoulder. “Better safe than sorry.”

Kurt busied himself with getting Mory’s mother set up in the truck. In the short amount of time he had known Blaine he had always seen him as a bubbly, happy man. Now, he was serious as he gently held a devastated little boy. 

“I knew I shouldn’t touch her,” Mory sobbed out. “But she was throwing up and so sick. I just wanted to make her better.”

“I know,” Blaine said gently. “You’re being very brave.”

His mother was rushed into the hospital, Kurt jogging beside her. He spent the next few hours making her comfortable, starting an IV, getting blood work, and creating a plan with another doctor.

His eyes and back ached as he walked through the dark hospital that night. He stretched slightly as he turned down another corridor and leaned into the next room. 

Mory was fast asleep on a bed, curled up tightly with tear tracks still shining on his cheeks. Next to him, Blaine was sitting in a chair with his eyes closed. For a moment Kurt just let himself stare. It had been such a long, long time since he had even had a crush on someone but Blaine was attractive and just a good person. It was impossible not to like him.

“Hey,” he said softly and Blaine sucked in a deep breath before opening bleary eyes. “You need some rest. You’d be much more comfortable back in the room.”

“I’m fine,” his accent was much thicker with sleep. “I think I’m going to stay here tonight. I want to be sure he’s okay.”

That night, when Kurt lay in bed, he couldn’t fall asleep. He wasn’t sure when he started relying on Blaine’s breathing across the room from him to sleep. 


	3. Chapter 3

After being a doctor for a few years he thought he had seen everything. 

Kurt was no stranger to death. He had seen his mother die slowly in front of his eyes and had signed far too many death certificates. He had never seen death like this. 

The people lying in the beds already looked like corpses. The tissue attaching their skin to their bones was decaying and their faces had become a blank, expressionless mask of skin. Dark spots began to grow under their skin as even the slightest touch would cause them to bleed, their eyes turned as red as rubies and the terrifying frothy blood that sprayed from their lips during seizures haunted Kurt’s dreams. 

These people weren’t just dying, they were suffering. 

The worst part of it all was that there was nothing any of them could do. They could administer pain medication, nausea medication, and try medication for seizures but it was just delaying the inevitable. 

Like Mory’s mother. 

Kurt could see the strain on Blaine’s face as he fought to keep the woman alive but it didn’t take long before she died just like the others. The heartbreaking wail that little Mory let out when she went made Kurt turn away and close his eyes. 

For two days after her death Blaine never left Mory’s side. The little boy lay in his arms and sobbed himself to sleep while Blaine sang him soft lullabies in Italian. 

This morning Mory woke up with reddened eyes. 

“It’s malaria,” Blaine mumbled to himself as he drew blood and Kurt knew that he was just trying to fool himself. 

The tests came back positive for Ebola. 

Blaine’s face set further and he hurried out of the room, hands clenched into fists. For the rest of the day as Kurt did his rounds he couldn’t find Blaine. There was a sudden rush of patients and by the end of the day he was exhausted. 

“Hey,” Blaine’s voice was thick when he pushed open the door to their room. “Sorry, I just…I had to take some time by myself.”

“It’s fine,” Kurt said softly and handed him a bottle of water. “It’s flavored, the truck just came in with some new supplies. Green apple.”

“Thanks,” Blaine gave him a small smile, eyes red rimmed. 

After a short hesitation, Kurt sat down next to Blaine on his bed and sighed. “This quilt is lovely.”

“My nonna, grandmother, made it for me. My parents died in a car accident when I was five…my brother was fifteen. My grandparents raised us,” Blaine smiled fondly down at the quilt. “They were amazing.”

“My mother died when I was eight,” Kurt nodded. “Was that when you wanted to be a doctor?”

“No,” Blaine shook his head with a small smile. “My grandfather was a pediatrician. I spent a good portion of my childhood working in his office and it just felt right. There’s something amazing about making sure that a child’s light continues to shine.”

“They love you,” Kurt whispered when Blaine’s eyes grew glassy with tears.

“Mory has never hurt a soul. He’s brave and strong and…I don’t want to watch him die. I’ve seen it happen far too often,” he reached up to wipe tears off of his cheeks. “It’s just…”

His chest shuddered with a sob and he curled in on himself. Kurt wrapped an arm around his shoulder and Blaine leaned into his body. For a long moment they just held each other.

Death was a living thing. Sometimes Kurt could almost see it lingering behind corners and under beds, waiting to attack. They could fight all they wanted but Death had an arsenal of weapons far stronger than theirs. It was exhausting and at times like this they were reminded how unprepared they were.

“I’m sorry,” Blaine choked out, wiping at his eyes. 

“Don’t be. I understand,” Kurt lightly rubbed the back of his neck with his thumb and Blaine gave him a watery smile. “I’ve only been here for a few weeks and you’ve been here for much longer. It has to wear on you.”

“I thought it would be easier,” Blaine sighed but made no motion to move away from Kurt’s embrace. 

“I know,” Kurt lightly squeezed the back of his neck. “Having someone like you here makes it easier though. If you need help, don’t hesitate to ask.”

“I wish we had met in different circumstances. Maybe at a bank or coffee shop or something,” Blaine grinned slightly. 

“Oh yeah? An American one or a fancy European one?”

“You haven’t lived until you have had good Italian coffee,” Blaine laughed. “It would be fun. I’d buy you a cup of coffee or two.”

Kurt’s heart beat a little faster. “R-really?”

“Of course,” Blaine sat up but still leaned into Kurt’s side. “You’re cute and I’ve thought that from the moment I met you. I’d buy you a cookie too.”

“Well I wouldn’t say no,” Kurt felt himself blush. 

Blaine laughed and combed his fingers through his hair. “Sorry, I would have tried to look better than three day old scrubs if I knew we were going to flirt.”

“Is that what we’re doing?” Kurt teased and Blaine grinned back.

“It’s nice to forget where we are for a while…especially with someone like you,” he bumped their shoulders together. “Do you want to go get some food and have a date in our room?”

“You mean our tiny room with no air conditioning and one light bulb? Of course,” Kurt stood and offered a hand. 

—

It was nice to have a small ray of light in a dark world. 

Blaine’s soft smile made him feel a little bit lighter as he tried in vain to save patients. Some days when the struggle seemed too much he curled up next to Blaine in bed and they held each other against an onslaught of pain. They were here to save people and so far it seemed like they hadn’t even made a dent in the suffering. 

Then Mory died.

It had started like any other day and Kurt watched as Blaine tried to coax the boy to drink more water. Mory had slowly deteriorated until he lay despondent in his bed, red eyes fixed ahead of him. Then his eyes rolled back and he fell into another seizure.

The rest of the doctors and nurses had long since given up on the little boy and watched him sadly as Blaine whispered soothing words to him. Blood streamed from his nose, mouth, eyes and ears but Blaine kept holding him, eyes dark behind his protective goggles. 

Mory went still and limp in Blaine’s arms. It looked like he was holding his breath as Blaine checked the boy, closing his eyes for a moment before nodding. 

“Time of death one fifty-two,” he said softly but no one did anything. 

Two of the attendants walked over and Blaine waved them off. He carefully covered Mory with a white sheet and zipped him up in the body bag. As the attendants carried his small body out to be buried, Blaine watched them blankly. 

“Come on,” Kurt gently took his elbow and steered them out. 

Blaine was silent as they went through decontamination protocol and on the walk back to their room. As soon as he stepped into the room it was like he was a puppet with his strings cut. Kurt caught him as his knees gave out and sank to the floor with him. 

“Merda! Fanculo!” Blaine spat angrily. “Merda! Merda! Merda!”

“Shh,” Kurt gently rocked him back and forth. 

“It’s not fair,” his accent was thick as he gasped for air. “He was a child. He…he was supposed to be the one out of ten who make it. He was supposed to live.”

“It isn’t fair,” Kurt shook his head and pressed his lips to the top of Blaine’s head. “But we’ll-“

“What? We’ll cure them all? Did you know researchers believe that AIDS started similarly? In a small village in Africa? Now it’s a worldwide pandemic. Ebola spreads easily and with the amount of air travel happening it wouldn’t take long before it could go further,” he shook his head. “And while the rest of the world sighs in relief that they are safe, they turn a blind eye to the people who are suffering.”

“And there aren’t enough people like you,” Kurt squeezed him a little.

“I just don’t understand,” Blaine sucked a deep breath in and let it out in an explosive sigh. “What are we supposed to do?”

“Start again tomorrow, try to contain the infection,” Kurt said softly. “That’s all we can do.”


	4. Chapter 4

Kurt didn’t think he would ever get the heavy, coppery smell of blood out of his nose. The floor was covered in it, the doctors were covered in it, and the patients were covered in it. There were actual buckets of blood on the floor and Kurt could hardly take a deep breath.

“Dinner was fun last night,” Blaine’s eyes crinkled with a grin and Kurt laughed. 

“It was. Who knew rice and beans could taste so good?” he teased slightly, and Blaine shook his head. “It’s kind of nice to get away from all this.”

Since Mory died Blaine had been a little quieter. It was the point when all this became so much clearer, so much more personal. Not one of their patients had survived and Kurt felt it wearing on him. More days than not he would walk away from the clinic with his heart heavy.

Suddenly, a young man wailed nearby and they both hurried to his side. 

The man was near the end. His face had set into an impassive mask as the connective tissue dissolved and he had been experiencing seizures for a few days. Now he was jerking violently and he was bleeding from _everywhere._

Soft prayers were whispered from the man’s bloody lips as his eyes darted around, panicked. Blaine rested a hand on his forehead as Kurt pulled over a tray of supplies. 

“It’s alright,” he said softly, knowing that the words meant nothing. “Just breathe.”

“Can you give me a syringe of morphine?” Blaine asked softly and a nurse handed him a needle. 

Blaine gave the man a nod and carefully inserted the needle into the crook of his arm. The man’s eyes rolled back and his body began to violently spasm. With a muttered curse, Blaine took a step back and Kurt did as well. 

All they could do was watch as the man seized and seized until he went limp and stopped breathing. There was a terrible moment of stillness as everyone stared at the body in front of them before they moved slowly away, letting the crew move in to move the body. 

Quietly, both Kurt and Blaine walked over to the sinks and started the process of decontamination. Thankfully the rest of their patients were stable at the moment and they were able to get away from this for a moment. 

Then Kurt glanced over and saw the blood pooling in Blaine’s rubber gloves. “Oh my God.”

Blaine looked at him, confused, before looking down. His face paled and his eyes widened in horror as he ripped the glove off. “It’s fine. It’s okay. It’s the patient’s blood.”

Kurt nodded furiously as Blaine started scrubbing frantically at his hands. They stood in silence as Blaine got all the blood off his hands and raised them to his face to inspect them. 

His heart fell as he saw a small bead of blood well up on Blaine’s palm.

A bloody needle had stabbed him. 

“I need to get a bed. I need to start anti-virals,” Blaine murmured to himself, still holding his hands out. “Shit. Merda!”

“You might not have it,” Kurt quickly steered him to a bed as the rest of the doctors stared at him in horror. Of course they would be terrified, this was all of their worst nightmares. “It was quick. You didn’t even notice it happening right?”

“Probably when the patient started seizing,” Blaine whispered, face still pale. “But you’re right. It probably didn’t transfer. I’m fine.”

Kurt have him a reassuring smile as he stepped into the decontamination room. As soon as the curtain closed Kurt felt lost. What were you supposed to do in a situation like this? He didn’t even know what he and Blaine were. Were they just friends? Boyfriends? Something else?

In the end, he set up a bed and hovered nearby until Blaine came out in oversized scrubs. He offered him a wan smile as he slipped under the sheets and Kurt subtly reached down to squeeze his hand as soon as he saw the others turn away. 

“I don’t have it,” Blaine said decisively, shaking his head as he slid under the sheets. “I’ll just be in here for a few weeks and go insane with boredom. You’ll visit me right?”

“No, I was planning on ignoring you the entire time,” Kurt rolled his eyes. “I’ll grab your quilt and some books and bring them tomorrow.”

“I don’t have it Kurt. There wasn’t enough time for transmission.”

Kurt just nodded slowly, keeping the reassuring smile on his face. Yes there was a chance that Blaine got lucky and he would just waste some time in quarantine before being released. There was a chance he would be just fine. 

Kurt had to keep telling himself that. 

As the days passed Blaine seemed fine. He was energetic and bright eyed, grinning every time Kurt arrived with books or little things to pass the time. Every day that passed by Kurt allowed himself to gain some hope.

Blaine was a good person who cared too much. He didn’t deserve to get sick. 

Then, nine days after he was forced into quarantine, Kurt arrived at the clinic with a decontaminated pillow. For a few days Blaine had been complaining of back pain due to the uncomfortable bed he was in and Kurt had struggled to find a pillow that he could send through the bleach solution. 

The other doctors shot him looks as soon as he arrived and something painful twisted in Kurt’s stomach. He quickened his stride and turned into Blaine’s room.

The young man looked nothing like he had the day before. Blaine was pale and breathing shakily, his body trembling a little. 

“I’m fine,” he gave Kurt a shaky smile. “Just a headache.”

His eyes were red. 


	5. Chapter 5

“It’s nothing,” Blaine batted his hands away, shifting in his bed. 

“Nothing?” Kurt tried to push down the panic rising in his chest. “Blaine, you were exposed to a serious, serious illness.”

“It’s malaria. Headache, nausea, and reddened eyes are all signs of malaria,” Blaine argued back. “Or it’s typhoid fever or hepatitis or meningitis. There are a million things that it could be.”

Kurt ground his teeth together and glanced over to the tray that held the syringes. “We just need a blood sample.”

“Then do a spinal tap. It’ll rule out meningitis,” Blaine argued back. 

“You seriously want to go through a painful, useless test to avoid giving a little blood?” Kurt crossed his arms and Blaine nodded sharply. 

“Because it’s not ebola,” he said slowly. “Do the spinal tap. If the spinal fluid is clear then do a blood test for malaria.” 

“You’re not thinking straight!” Kurt shouted, making a few nurses and doctors glancing at him. “You know that we need to do the blood test.”

“I have headaches, stiff neck, and nausea. Those are all signs of meningitis. Just…test me for it,” Blaine’s voice went pleading. “Give me the spinal tap.”

Closing his eyes tightly, Kurt pressed his hands against his eyes. An Ebola diagnosis was almost a death sentence, and a very painful one at that. It made sense that Blaine would want to delay that diagnosis for as long as possible. 

“Fine. It’s pointless but fine,” he sighed and went to find a needle. 

Ten minutes later, Blaine was on his side and Kurt was positioned behind him. Although he had done this procedure a million times, it looked far scarier than he remembered. He was dressed in every article of protective gear they could find and pressed against the small of Blaine’s back.

“Feel that?”

“Not really,” Blaine’s accent was thicker than he had ever heard it. 

“The anesthesia we use back in my hospital is a whole lot stronger than this stuff. This is going to hurt,” Kurt warned, placing the needle against his spine. “Ready?”

Blaine was silent but Kurt took that as a go ahead. Slowly, he pushed the needle forward and Blaine let out a sharp gasp. He continued steadily until he was in the spinal column and paused as Blaine’s body shook.

“I’m in,” Kurt said softly. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” Blaine choked out, his shoulders still trembling. 

They were silent as Kurt held a little plastic cup under the opening and let fluid drip into it. After he got enough he carefully pulled out the needle and pressed a cotton ball to the entry point. 

“Done,” he helped Blaine lay back, ignoring the tear tracks on his cheeks. “Just rest for an hour, don’t get up.”

Blaine nodded, closing his eyes tightly and taking in a deep breath. “What did the test show?”

“Looks like it’s…” Kurt took the cup and looked at it, heart sinking. “It’s clear. It’s not meningitis.”

Blaine let out the breath in a heavy sigh before holding out his arm. He kept his eyes closed the entire time Kurt drew the blood and then drew his arm close to his body when he was finished. 

“It’ll be okay,” Kurt leaned down and whispered into his ear after he handed the blood to the nurse. 

“I know,” Blaine mumbled looking entirely unconvinced. “I’m going to take a nap.”

Kurt smiled and nodded, turning around so he didn’t have to see the look on Blaine’s face much longer. He pulled the curtains closed around his bed, separating him from the rest of the unit. The last thing Blaine needed was to watch his neighbor choke on his own blood. 

The next few hours went by far too slowly. Kurt made his rounds, checking on both his and Blaine’s patients. Every time he looked into someone’s blank face or saw them puking up blood he saw Blaine do the same. He saw Blaine suffering, he saw Blaine in a body bag. 

Near the end of the day, another doctor approached him with a file and he frantically opened it, looking through Blaine’s test results. 

_Patient: Anderson, Blaine_

_Test: Enzyme-Linked Immunosobent Assay_

_Results:_

_Malaria: Negative_

_Ebola Zaire: Positive_

Kurt’s head swam and he leaned against the wall, staring down at the word. There was no more stalling, Blaine had Ebola. The papers shook in his hand and he slowly made his way to where Blaine’s bed was.

“Hey,” Blaine’s voice cracked and he smiled softly up at him. “How are our patients?”

“Um…Leroy in bed thirteen is not doing so well. He’s circling the drain and I don’t think he’ll make it through the night,” Kurt sighed, pulling a chair up to the side of the bed. “Everyone else is holding though.”

“Good,” Blaine stretched a little, wincing at the ache in his back. “New file? Is that a new patient?”

“No, it’s your test results,” Kurt glanced down at the folder. “You’re-“

“Don’t.”

“It’s positive for Ebola,” he whispered and Blaine let out a huff of a breath, looking around frantically. 

“The test was wrong,” Blaine spat out, placing a hand on his chest. “I mess up tests all the time. Doctors mess up.”

“We can’t waste anymore time rerunning tests. Stalling a diagnosis isn’t going to stall the disease,” Blaine let out a hoarse sob and looked away as Kurt spoke. “We can start you on some treatments-“

“There is no treatment. There are supportive measures,” Blaine mumbled. “It’s like fighting a wildfire with squirt guns.”

Kurt nodded, tapping the file against his hand. His chest felt tight and Blaine stared at the ceiling, pure fear shining in his eyes. His breathing came fast and panicked and his body shook all over. 

“We’ll make you comfortable,” he whispered and Blaine let out a hysterical laugh. “There’s still a chance you’ll be fine.”

“A ten percent chance. The numbers aren’t in my favor,” Blaine rolled his eyes. 

“I’m sorry,” Kurt sighed. He had given bad news a hundred times and this was by far the worst he had ever felt. “This wasn’t ever supposed to happen. We were being so careful.”

Blaine gave him a shaking smile. “We were.”

“It could be a mild case. You are going to be fine,” Kurt reached over and squeezed his hand. “It’s something that we can get through. We have no choice but to keep going.”

Blaine squeezed his eyes shut tightly, gripping the sheets in his fists. The clinic was hushed around them and Kurt felt suddenly like he was suffocating. 

“Don’t leave me alone here,” Blaine finally whispered. 

“Never.”


	6. Chapter 6

After Blaine got the diagnosis he seemed to shut down a little. He slept most of the day only waking up to look at Kurt sadly when he changed out his IV. Part of it was the medication to help with the pain but Kurt knew that most of it was the depression at what was essentially a death wish. 

 

“Can you do me a favor?” He whispered as Kurt brought in some more IV fluids. 

 

“Sure,” Kurt nodded, relieved that he was finally speaking to him. 

 

“Can you call my brother and tell him what happened?” Blaine pushed himself up slightly in bed. “There’s no service out here or internet so you’d have to go into the city but I would be so grateful. If not, I understand.”

 

“Of course I’ll do it,” Kurt handed him a pad of paper he had pulled out of his pocket. “Write down his information and I’ll do it tomorrow.”

 

Blaine’s grateful smile followed him all the way into the city. He managed to find an empty coffee shop and after ordering himself a cup, sat in a corner booth. His coffee went cold as he stared at the slip of paper, hands trembling a little. 

 

Finally, Kurt dialed the number and held the phone to his ear.

 

“Hello?” The voice that answered sounded American but there was a hint of an Italian accent in the back. 

 

“Hello, is this Cooper Anderson?” Kurt asked awkwardly, shrinking down in the booth.

 

“Yes, who is this?”

 

“My name is Kurt Hummel. I am working with your brother Blaine in Africa and…while your brother was helping a patient he was stuck with a needle,” he heard a shaky breath on the other end. “He’s been infected with ebola.”

 

“Ebola? Like the disease where you bleed to death? Like the disease that’s all over the news?” His voice went higher and panicked. “Where there’s no cure?”

 

“We are doing everything we can-“

 

“Is my brother going to die?” 

 

“We are-“

 

“Is he going to die?” Kurt jumped at the shout. 

 

“I’ll give you the facts. There is a ninety percent mortality rate and no cure or treatment,” Kurt said softly and closed his eyes at Cooper’s soft sob. “All we can do is treat the symptoms. We can help his nausea, fever, pain-“

 

“What’s going to happen? How is it…” Cooper trained off, voice thick with tears. 

 

“Um…it begins like the flu. There’s a fever, sore throat, aches and a headache. Then the virus will attack small blood vessels and tissues. There’s bruising and…the skin might detach from the muscle. There will be bloody vomit and nosebleeds along with some mental issues. Eventually…his internal organs will literally liquefy and he’ll…vomit them up and bleed to death. The death is quick and by that point they usually aren’t aware of much,” Kurt mumbled before falling into silence. 

 

“I can’t come can I?” Cooper’s Italian accent was much thicker. 

 

“No I’m sorry,” Kurt sighed. “Your brother is an amazing doctor. He has tried so, so hard to save everyone he could and it tortured him when he couldn’t. He’s an unbelievable person.”

 

“Blaine always did have a problem with self sacrificing,” he let out a hoarse laugh. “And you’re friends with my brother?”

 

“I am,” Kurt said quickly. 

 

“Thank you for calling me, please let me know if anything…changes,” Cooper said softly and they said their goodbyes. 

 

Kurt allowed for a few tears to run down his cheeks after he hung up. It seemed so much more real now that he had told Blaine’s family. It hit him like a ton of bricks. Blaine was sick, he was dying. 

 

And there wasn’t anything Kurt could do.

 

—

 

“We should go to the beach,” Blaine whispered, smiling up at Kurt as he finished making notes in his chart. 

 

“The beach is a few hours away,” Kurt laughed before taking a seat next to him. 

 

“No, the one in Italy,” his eyes were a little glassy but he was still smiling. “We’ll…we’ll get gelato and eat it while we watch the waves. You’ll look beautiful when the sun sets. You’re eyes are going to light all up like fireworks.”

 

“So all Italians are poets,” Kurt joked, blinking back tears. “There really aren’t any places in Ohio that I would take you to.”

 

“Was Ohio where you dreamed you would live?” Blaine looked like he was fighting sleep. 

 

“New York,” Kurt answered, gently running his gloved fingers along Blaine’s arm. “I went once with my high school glee club and it was amazing. I would take you to a show, we’d walk through Central Park, we’d kiss on top of the Empire State Building.”

 

“That sounds amazing,” Blaine mumbled eyes sliding closed. “I…I want a New York City hot dog.”

 

“I’ll get you whatever you want to eat,” Kurt laughed, brushing off his tears. “Maybe some cheesecake too.”

 

Blaine’s lips quirked into a smile and he drifted off to sleep. As he slept, Kurt watching him, trying to commit the image to memory before it got worse. If things had been different they could have been happy. He could easily see himself being with someone as sweet and caring as Blaine. 

 

Instead he had to watch him suffer. 

 

After making sure that everything looked good on his vitals and IVs, Kurt walked to the center station and checked on his patients. As he looked through every patient he tried hard to act like he knew Blaine would act. The patients were bleak and scared but he tried his hardest to keep their hopes up, a difficult task since he knew there wasn’t much hope. 

 

Then Blaine screamed. 

 

Kurt’s heart jumped into his chest and he ran to the curtain and ripped it open, freezing at the sight. Blaine was sitting up, hands pressed to his stomach as he shook in pain. Blood dripped from his chin and a large pool was on the bed. With another jerk Blaine vomited more blood and sobbed. 

 

“You’re alright,” Kurt hurried to his side, shouting an order for blood to a nurse. He quickly adjusted Blaine’s pain medication and placed a hand on his shoulder. 

 

“Non mi toccare,” Blaine sobbed out in Italian, jerking out of his touch. “Non, non, non.”

 

“Blaine,” Kurt gently took hold of his bloodied chin. “Stay here with me.”

 

Blaine just sobbed.

 

—

 

Things went downhill quickly after that. Blaine seemed unaware of where he was or what was happening, his eyes were open and glassy. Whenever he did talk it seemed like nonsense and it was always in Italian. 

 

“Blaine?” Kurt leaned over him and Blaine’s weak hands tried to push him away. “Can you hear me?”

 

Blaine choked on a whimper, blood staining his face from his earlier nosebleed. He was burning with fever but shook violently. His fingers curled into Kurt’s shirt and he coughed hard. 

 

Unable to do anything to help, Kurt just upped his pain medication and hoped that he wasn’t suffering. 

 

He couldn’t be around Blaine anymore. This terrified person lying in the bed wasn’t the man he had fallen for and it wasn’t how Blaine would want him to remember him by. He started going through the patients one by one before he turned to the only bright light there was. 

 

Mari was an eleven-year girl who had been on death’s door before she suddenly recovered. Her bright eyes and soft smile as he walked up to her made his chest swell with hope. 

 

“How are you feeling sweetheart?” He asked with a smile and she beamed. 

 

“Good,” he put aside the book he had brought her earlier. “Is Dr. Anderson okay?”

 

“He’s fighting,” Kurt smiled, unsure if that was even true. “He’d be so glad to see that you were doing so well.”

 

Kurt knew that Blaine would have been thrilled to see Mari. Sometimes there was so much bad in their lives that something like this was overwhelmingly amazing. He found himself smiling at the thought of Blaine’s thrilled expression. 

 

There was a specific reason he finished his rounds on Mari and after he completed all his paperwork he returned to Blaine’s side. The other man was pale and had clearly lost weight, looking almost skeletal in his bed. Kurt quietly walked to his side, not wanting to wake up Blaine. 

 

He checked on his IVs and was pleased to see that Blaine didn’t have a nosebleed like he did most nights. As he hovered over the other doctor he scrunched his face up and opened his eyes, blinking blearily. 

 

“Blaine?” Kurt asked, dreading the muttered Italian and confusion. 

 

“Where’s my New York cheesecake?” Blaine whispered, voice hoarse. 

 

Kurt stared down at him for a long moment before he pressed a hand against his forehead. For the first time in a long time the scorching heat that radiated off of his body was gone. 


	7. Chapter 7

The sand crunched softly as he walked and he smiled softly as he curled his toes into the sand. The wind ruffled his clothes and hair and he closed his eyes, enjoying the breeze against his skin. 

“Do you want to build a sand castle with us Blaine?” He opened his eyes and turned slightly to the side, seeing his mother smiling warmly at him. 

“A sand castle?”

“We can get water ice afterward,” she nodded towards where his father was. “I know you love strawberry.”

Blaine took a few steps towards them, chest aching as he walked towards his family. They had spent so many beautiful summer days at this exact beach as a family and Blaine just wanted to go back to that. Somewhere deep he could remember a lot of pain but how could there be pain when he was so happy. 

His bare feet dragged with every step and he paused, looking down at the black shoes. He was wearing brightly colored scrubs and had a stethoscope around his neck. Something cold settled in his stomach and he looked up at his mother who was frowning slightly. 

“What’s the matter cucciolo?” She asked softly.

“I can’t go with you,” Blaine whispered and her forehead furrowed. “I’m needed somewhere else.”

A slight pain settled in his chest and he whimpered. His mother gave him the soft smile he remembered. “My brave boy. You have fought so hard, you don’t have to fight any more.”

Blaine felt tears rise in his eyes and something wet hit his lip. Shakily, he reached up and brushed blood off his lip from his nose. His mother’s eyes softened and she took a few steps forward. 

“Am I dead?”

“No Blaine,” she shook her head. 

He looked past her towards his father who was smiling warmly at him in the distance. It would be so easy to just go with them and he wouldn’t hurt anymore. He wouldn’t have to watch another child die. He wouldn’t have to feel his own body shut down. He wouldn’t have to see the grief in Kurt’s eyes. 

“I can’t go with you,” he said again. 

“I always worried that your heart would get too full,” she laughed softly. “When you were a child you cared far too much.”

“People need me. I’m saving people and doing good,” he said softly, feeling the pain in his chest grow slightly. 

“Is that the only reason?” His mother gave him that knowing smile. 

He could feel a phantom touch on his hand and on his forehead and leaned slightly into the touch. When he opened his eyes again a few tears ran down his cheeks. “I’m in love.”

“I know,” she smiled wider. 

“He’s amazing mamma,” he whispered. “He’s beautiful inside and out. He cares so deeply and he loves me. He’s been fighting for me and…and I’m afraid that I can’t fight hard enough.”

“You’re so strong Blaine but that’s a decision you need to make,” she stepped forward and pulled him into a tight hug. “I’m so, so proud of the man you’ve become. If you choose to stay with me I’ll be thrilled but if you choose to delay our reunion I’ll be equally thrilled. You can have a family and spend your life with someone you love.”

“I need to go back,” he held her tightly. 

“I know,” she kissed his temple. “Go back to him.”

Blaine opened his eyes to a sudden overwhelming headache and a mouth full of cotton. He blinked up at the person hovering above him and slowly blue eyes swam into focus. 

“Blaine?” Kurt whispered and he smiled. 

“Where’s my New York Cheesecake?”

—

The sky was painted a beautiful collection of oranges and yellows, just like the roses that were on every tabletop. Blaine had never felt more at piece than sitting on the sand in his tuxedo, wrapped in the arms of his new husband. 

“You were so right,” Kurt sighed. “Italian beach weddings are the best weddings.”

“This was the beach my family and I went to all the time,” Blaine smiled softly, leaning into his body. “It kind of feels like they’re here with us.”

“I felt them here,” Kurt reached forward and gently ran his fingers along his new ring. “I felt everyone here. Your parents, my mother, and every patient we lost. They were all here.”

Blaine smiled at him and kissed him deeply, the music from the reception drifting towards them. He closed his eyes and just focused on Kurt. He had been there through the most agonizing parts of the disease. He had been there when he recovered. He had been there when the disease was finally eradicated from the village they were in. 

They had survived hell together. Nothing could tear them apart.


End file.
